What a Ghoul Wants (3 page)

Gil leaned his head back against the wall, and I could see that his eyes had gotten
moist and he was trying to hold back the tears. That took me by surprise. I had no
idea he was so upset about coming here. “It’s just. . . ,” he began, without adding
anything more.

“Just what, honey? Come on, Gil. Tell me. What’s got you so freaked-out?”

Gil wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. He wouldn’t look at me, which troubled
me greatly. “At some point,” he finally said, “I think my luck’s gonna run out. Someday,
on one of these busts, either you or me or Heath or one of our crew is gonna end up
dead, M. J.”

“Oh, Gil,” I whispered, laying a hand on his arm.

I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him until he wasn’t afraid anymore, but
then Gilley looked up at me with big liquid eyes and said, “And this time, I really,
really feel that something
really
bad is gonna happen. And when really bad stuff happens, it usually happens to me
first.”

Gilley then dissolved into tears and I hardly knew what to do. I’d never seen him
so undone before, so I threw my arms around him and hugged him as tight as I could.
When Heath met my eyes across the room, I shook my head. I found I couldn’t talk.
And deep in my heart I noticed for the first time my own sense of foreboding. It was
like a small dark hole had suddenly opened up in the center of my chest, and try as
I might, I couldn’t ignore the feeling that maybe, this time, Gilley might be right.

It took another twenty minutes for airport security to confirm we weren’t a bunch
of terrorists or hoodlums, and by the time they shook all of us awake, we were so
groggy and punch-drunk that it made for some comical stumbling out of the airport.

Because we were so bushed, we took a vote and instead of renting a couple of vans,
we sprang for a couple of taxis to take us to our destination. For once, Gopher agreed
with me that we could always rent a van later if we needed it.

The taxis took us to Kidwellah Castle, an incredibly majestic structure moated on
three sides and the fourth backing up to Lake Byrn y Bach.

The castle itself was truly glorious, complete with turrets, parapets, towers, and
a huge drawbridge. It was like something right out of Camelot. Even Gilley, who’d
been slumped and pouty in the seat next to me, perked up when we rolled down a hill
and the view of the castle opened up. As we drove closer to the structure, I could
see the beautiful moat, gleaming dark blue as the setting sun’s rays danced across
it. It didn’t look scary at all and I could almost see the gears in Gilley’s brain
turning with that very thought, because the stiff set of his shoulders relaxed a little
as he took in the lovely setting.

As we got closer, however, I happened to take in the row of signs lining the road
on both sides of the drawbridge, warning pedestrians to walk in the center of the
drawbridge, and to keep off the surrounding rocks leading to the moat.
SWIFT CURRENT!
read one sign.
NO SWIMMING!
read another, and all of them warned of
DANGER!

But as we crossed onto the drawbridge—a massively wide affair without railings and
set low to the water—I didn’t see anything stirring in the calm waters to either side.
Gil turned to me as if to silently ask me if I thought the moat was as dangerous as
the signs posted about warned. I merely shrugged, because I truly didn’t know.

Across the main bridge we rolled into the castle’s bailey—or the large enclosed courtyard
leading to the main building and the keep—which were actually separate structures,
but connected by a parapet about two stories up.

It’s hard to give a scale to what we were looking at, but suffice it to say that the
castle was
huge
and—according to the goose bumps forming on my arms—chock-full of ghosties.

The two taxis parked in front of a massive iron door, propped open by a block of wood.
As we exited and stretched our limbs, a slight-looking man in his late twenties or
early thirties, dressed in an army green wool sweater and matching trousers, approached
with his hands clasped together in front of him and his frame slightly bent. “Good
evening,” he said formally. “I’m Merrick Brown, the hotel clerk. Welcome to Kidwellah
Castle.”

I shook his hand and received a ready smile from the man. He was an extremely interesting-looking
character, with bright carrot-red hair, a round face, bushy brows, a wonderfully hooked
nose, and twinkling blue eyes. I warmed to him immediately. “Thank you, Merrick,”
I said. “I’m M. J. Holliday.”

“Oh, yes, Miss Holliday, I’ve looked you up on the Internet and I have to say, I’m
rather impressed! By what I’ve read, you and Mr. Whitefeather seem to be quite the
pair of amateur investigators! I’m dead chuffed you and your crew will be visitin’
our little patch of Wales for a wee bit of ghost hunting! I should think that you’ll
find Kidwellah up to standard for that sort of thing. The countess herself is very
excited that her castle will be on the telly. She’s hoping your show will bring in
the tourists and such.”

“Wonderful,” I said, attempting to muster up some enthusiasm, but I was too tired
to give the word any oomph. “Sorry we’re so late, but we were unexpectedly detained
at the airport.”

“Bloomin’ security, I imagine,” Merrick said with a knowing wink. “It’s why I never
goes anywhere.”

“I’m tired,” Gil whined, dragging his backpack on the ground as he shuffled forward
like a five-year-old.

I frowned at him before turning back to the charming clerk. “I’m afraid we’re all
exhausted. I know it’s still early for you, but I think we’re ready to drop where
we stand unless we get to bed very soon.”

“Of course, of course,” Merrick said, waving our group forward toward the main door.
“We’ll just get you lot your assigned rooms, and then you can be off to catch your
rest.”

“Thank you, baby Jesus,” Gil mumbled, quickening his step to be first in line at check-in.

Gopher sidled up next to me. “This is gonna put us behind schedule.”

“Do you know that you say that at the start of every single bust we do, Goph?” I was
sick of everybody complaining. Actually, I was sick of everybody, and I just wanted
a real bed to crash into for a good night’s sleep—which, by my estimation, I hadn’t
had in over forty-two hours.

“Well, it’s true,” Gopher replied irritably. Then he quickened his step too.

I inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to put a damper on my short
fuse. “How you holding up?” Heath asked me as we walked through the door behind everyone
else and into a gigantic main hall.

I didn’t even answer him, because I was too busy gawking at the gorgeous digs.

The interior of the castle was sparsely decorated, but truthfully, it didn’t need
much because the architecture was so stunning. A huge stone staircase led up to a
catwalk that completely encircled the large square room. Off the catwalk were four
hallways positioned in the center of each section of the square, and I guessed that
our rooms were down at least one of those hallways.

On the main floor there were several full suits of armor positioned at random sections
around the square, a seating area, and a grand piano. A narrow window let in very
little light, but the main hall was well illuminated by a massive iron chandelier
that had to weigh several hundred pounds.

The air inside the castle was damp and chilly, probably a result of the cold stone
bricks, which held in very little warmth and allowed moisture to collect where it
would.

It was the perfect ambience for a haunting and I only hoped that the ghosties would
hold off visiting Heath and me until morning.

Just as I had that thought, however, I saw a shadow dart down one of the hallways
upstairs. I elbowed Heath and pointed up. “You saw it too?” he asked.

I nodded. “This should be interesting.”

Heath and I were the last to check in and receive our rooms. Merrick looked to his
logbook as he searched for our names and corresponding keys. “I’ve selected a suite
of two rooms in the VIP section of the castle,” he said merrily, his expression slightly
starstruck.

Heath bounced his eyebrows at me and mouthed, “VIP?”

I had a feeling that Merrick might believe we were far more well-known than we actually
were. “It’s a lovely set of rooms, removed from the regular guests, and as we have
a large and rather boisterous party in residence at present, I believe you’ll appreciate
the peace and quiet of the VIP wing. And you’ll even have your own key to access that
section of the castle.”

“Our own key to that section of the castle?” Heath repeated, and I could sense that
he was a little uncomfortable being mislabeled a VIP.

Merrick slid the rather large antique-looking key at us. “Yes, Mr. Whitefeather,”
he said. “We reserve that wing for our most important guests and locking it ensures
that none of the riffraff get in.”

If I’d had the energy, I would have set Merrick straight about the fact that Heath
and I were just as riffraff as the next person and we didn’t need our own private
section of the castle, but the truth was, I was secretly pleased about being treated
like a celebrity. So when Heath eyed me to see what I thought, I nodded. Plus, I was
pretty sure that once Gopher found out we’d been located in the VIP section, he’d
blow a gasket at the added expense something like that was bound to come with, so
why not enjoy it for one night before he forced us to move?

After handing us our room keys and drawing Heath a map to the VIP wing, Merrick turned
from congenial to downright sheepish when he added, “I’m so sorry we’ve no one to
take your bags for you, but I’m afraid I’m needed in the kitchen to help Mrs. Farnsworth
prepare for supper.”

“No sweat,” Heath assured him, swinging his duffel over his shoulder, and taking the
handle of my suitcase up while he was at it. “We pack light.”

As we thanked Merrick and turned toward the stairs, Heath leaned in to kiss me sweetly
on the cheek. “How you holding up?”

I put my hand on his shoulder and moved close to him. “I think I’m asleep on my feet.”

“I hear you,” he agreed, before pointing across the huge front hall to a sign. “There’s
a dining room here,” he said. “Should we get some food to take up to our rooms?”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “If you’re hungry, go for it, but I’m passing. All I
want to do is fall into bed for the next twelve hours.”

On the way up the stairs, Heath stopped to reach over and steady me, because I was
swaying so badly that I was in danger of falling back down the stairs. At the top
he offered me the handle of my bag and said, “Sweetheart, you’ve gotta pull it for
a little ways while I look at the map, okay?”

I nodded dully and shuffled along clumsily behind him. I never lifted my gaze from
the backs of his shoes and I couldn’t tell you how long it took or how many corners
we turned, but eventually we ended up at a locked door and Heath inserted his key,
turning it with some effort to gain us entry. The door gave way with a loud creak,
and if I’d had the strength, I would have commented on how appropriate the setting
was for two ghost hunters like us.

The corridor beyond was dim and dreary. It was also quite damp and a chill went through
me, raising goose bumps along my arms. Heath and I both hesitated in the doorway,
and with effort I focused on the atmosphere. “The VIP wing is haunted,” I said.

Heath eyed the corridor warily. “It’s thick in here, Em. Do you want to go back and
have Merrick assign us another room with the riffraff?”

I smiled wearily. “Wait till Gilley hears he was labeled part of that crowd and we
were given VIP status.”

“He’ll demand to stay in this section too, even with the additional spook factor.”

I knew Heath was still waiting for me to decide what to do, but I was so numb with
fatigue that I was having a really hard time thinking. I didn’t like the feel of the
place, but it was such a long way back, and Merrick had suggested he was going to
help out somebody in the kitchen, so even if we went back down and asked to be reassigned,
in all likelihood we weren’t going to have anyone to assist us for some time. “Let’s
just stay here the one night and ask for another room in the morning,” I said at last.

Still, Heath seemed to hesitate, and he looked around worriedly. I could see the goose
pimples on his arms too. “Unless you think we really should go back?” I added with
a sigh.

Heath’s eyes flickered to me, and he softened. “I think it’ll be okay,” he said. “After
all, the worst spooks at this place are supposed to be haunting the moat and the moors.
One night won’t kill us.”

I trudged through the opening, blinking heavily. “Exactly. Even the dead won’t wake
me tonight.”

Heath grabbed for the handle of my luggage again, and I stumbled along clumsily, fighting
to keep my eyes open and my legs moving. Heath then passed me and led the way to our
room, which by now felt like it was located on the other side of the moon. At last
he stopped at one of our assigned rooms and inserted another key. Pushing the door
open, he motioned with his arm for me to move ahead, and when I did, I nearly came
up short. The room was quite small, as in barely enough room for the queen-sized mattress.
It was also dark and musty smelling, like it hadn’t been aired out in a very long
time. “
This
is the VIP suite of rooms?” I said.

Heath eyed the numbered keys in his hand, then backed out and looked down the hall.
“He also gave us the room next door.”

“Is it any bigger?” I asked. Truly if I had known the rooms were this small and this
musty, I would’ve insisted we take a regular room.

Heath moved out of sight for a minute and I heard him turning the other key in the
door. He then reappeared and said, “It is a little bigger. Come on, babe, let’s get
you to bed.”

I shuffled out of the room and over to the one next door, which still smelled pretty
musty, but at least was slightly bigger. Once inside I shrugged out from under the
strap of my messenger bag, letting it fall to the floor, then wiggled out of my coat,
letting it plop on top of the bag, and crawled onto the bed, finally falling face-first
into the pillow. The most effort I exhibited after that was to curl around into a
fetal position and exhale a relieved sigh. I’d sleep in my clothes and be happy for
it. And that was one of my last clearly conscious thoughts, but even as it entered
my head, I could feel Heath tugging off my boots, jeans, and sweater before covering
me with the comforter. I also think he kissed my cheek and told me he loved me, but
that part I honestly could have dreamed.